Help Me Through The Night
by MysticDiamond
Summary: Daphne du Maurier's book Rebecca was turned into a musical. Based on those characters, I wrote a short  story. It's about a meeting in the middle of the night of Mrs. Danvers and Jack Favell. Please R&R.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The characters belong to Daphne du Maurier and the "Vereinigten Bühnen Wien".  
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Motionless she was standing on the balcony. Her gaze trailed away into the distance. Beneath her the surge was smacking thunderously against the rocks. The wind swirled around her graceful figure and her long black dress fluttered. Her hair didn't, though. She had fixed it in a knot at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were closed. She inhaled the salty cold sea air in deep breaths. Behind her gusts were surging into the chamber. They let the curtains dance like soulless creatures. Her fingers clutched the white wrought-iron balustrade.

How often had she returned to that place? She would be untroubled here. Noone else dared to enter that room. Everyone considered it cursed. Cursed. A dry laugh escaped her throat, but it was lost in the roar of the sea.

Although she had her back turned to the room, she noticed the hushed noise, that was inevitable when opening a door. She dissembled, though, only raising her chin gently. Uprightly she was standing against the storm, like a figurhead, while she was listening to the approaching footsteps. She had immediately known who the intruder was, who disturbed the peaceful quietness. Soundlessly he had stepped behind her, but she could feel his breath on her neck.

"Are you always creeping like that?", she asked drily, without turning around nor opening her eyes. Instead of giving an answer she could feel his hands finding the way to her waist.

"You thinkin' about Rebecca again?", he finally said in a coarse voice.

She leaned back und let her head rest against his shoulder. It was one of the rare moments, she was showing weakness in. A sigh escaped her throat.

„Oh, Danny.", his right hand disengaged from her waist and softly stroke her arm, whose fingers were only resting on the balustrade now.

"I know that she's alive.", she whispered so quietly, that it gave trouble to understand her in the roar of the waves. "She's gone and away. I was left here...as punishment."

He softly ran his hand over her cheek, achieving that she opened her eyes. Despite the heavy storm it was a starlit night.

"And now that bitch thinks, she can take her place!", she snorted contemptously and her fingers clenched into fists. "As if someone else could ever be fit to hold a candle to her!"

That outburst of fury took him by surprise. He looked down at her inquiring, while he tried to add something assuassive to his touch. "Noone can replace her, Danny. Never. No mortal approximates her beauty.", he confirmed and closed his eyes to recall her image.

In silence they were standing in the moonlight. The smacking of the waves against the rocks was soothing. The wind had decreased. In the distance you could hear the siren of a ship. His second hand was placed on her belly and pulled her closer to the man behind her.

"Why did you come, Favell?", she tried hard to sound repellent, but failed miserably.

"I miss her, too...", he answered in a soft voice. With his thumb he was drawing circles on the cheek of the woman in front of him. She had closed her eyes again and completely abandoned herself to his touch. That way, she nearly appeared to be fragile, without her condescending gaze and the upright posture. He was the only one to know that she wasn't always the tough woman she ought to play. A grey strand glowed silvery in the moonlight.

"And now you need replacement?", he wasn't able to interpret the sound of her voice. Was she annoyed, was she daring him or did she want to make fun of him?

"Alas, Danny.", he sighed dramatically und started to explore her flat belly with his second hand. The long dress was mantling her like a second skin. He could feel all her movements, how her abdominal muscles alternately tensed and relaxed, how she held her breath or rushed her exhalation. A smile, confident of victory spread on his face. He was able to get that ice cold woman to melt.

"I thought a problem shared is a problem halved. That's the way life is...", he was now leering. His right hand was wandering down her throat. Slowly he started to unbutton the bothersome collar of her dress.

"Favell...", she wanted to object, but she was too weak. He didn't accept doubts as well by covering her mouth with his. Still, her head was resting against his shoulder. His second hand slid upwards on her left side, to caress her cheek. Her fingers relaxed and definitely released the balustrade. Finally she turned her body to face him completely. She let her hands rest on his chest. Breathlessy they disenganged from each other. He noticed that she was smiling - a gesture he had never seen before.

"Let's go inside. It's becoming cold here outside.", with these words she pushed him back into the room. She closed the doors carefully. Only the moonshine dispensed faintly light.

"I hope you know what you're doing...", she whispered, before abandoning herself to his talented lips again.


End file.
